


To Build A Home

by luxurytea



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Issues, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23110897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxurytea/pseuds/luxurytea
Summary: Chapter 1:After the Season 10 wedding finale, Mickey and Ian are about to move into their first home.
Relationships: Debbie Gallagher & Sandy Milkovich, Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher & The Gallaghers, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Lip Gallagher & Tami Tamietti, Mickey Milkovich & The Gallaghers
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short introductory chapter to get myself back into writing fics. Consider this a Season 11 "wishlist" fic based on headcanons for the show. I'm well aware that season 11 is still a work in progress and that things may, of course, differ from the things written in my fic, obviously. 
> 
> This fic focuses on the entire family as a whole. Gallagher's & Milkovich's and how things pan out before the show end.

“Place looks like a fuckin’ dump.” words are muttered, ensuring that they’re loud enough for Ian to hear. After the extent that he had gone to plan the wedding, a significant ‘fuck-you’ to a man that had only caused him pain. A father that had failed in measure up to any definition of the word. With Terry still searching most of Chicago for the two of them, finding a home that was private enough was important. A place to call their own, ensuring privacy was maintained. 

“It’s only $850 a month, all bills. We can fix it up, make it our own.” Ian’s shoulders rise and fall, words a mere suggestion. He’d never had a place of his own to call his, to organize and touch up into a way that satisfied him. Everything had been shared, hand me downs and a bedroom shared with multiple siblings. Not that he had cared too much, the love that he had for his siblings was something that’d never fade even in the moments that he was at war with them. “$850 a month for a shithole.” Mickey countered, pointing to the peeling wallpaper, busted window and garbage on the floor of the empty room. “$850 for privacy and peace of mind.” Ian shot back, rapid-fire. How could Mickey argue that? Neither of them had quite exactly had space to ever call their own. A private place to call home. 

Settling on the southside home, Ian’s gaze shifts towards the real estate agent. Tired, overworked and desperately trying to unload this property had seemed to wear the poor guy down. 

“We’ll take it.” 

“Fantastic! I’ve got the papers here, just sign on the line. Two keys. You can take it today.” he replied, reaching into his briefcase to set rental contract onto the kitchen counter along with a pen and the two keys. His well-tailored black suit and case made him stick out like a sore thumb in this neighbourhood. Regardless, redhead approached, taking a pen from the countertop and signing the form and then handing it over for Mickey to do the same. 

Tattooed fingers wrap around the pen, lifting it to paper with lazy movements, scribbling along the dotted line. It’s barely legible but it’s a signature, who would know the difference? 

“Keys are there. If you have questions you can call my office but welcome to your new home.” Agent smiles, relief plastered over pale complexion as his hand extends to shake each of theirs before allowing himself to leave the home. 

“Home sweet fuckin’ home, _I guess._ ” Mickey chuckles dryly, shoving a key into his pocket and looking around the place. It isn’t until Ian’s hand meets his chin, gentle and soft; fingers turning his face as eyes meet. Both hands settle on either side of Mickey’s face, his lips curved upwards in a gentle smile. Eyes soft as they often were for him. 

Mickey’s eyes darted upwards, studying a freckled face before settling eyes upon Ian’s. Expression had softened, warmed up to the hands that held his face. The hands that bore a wedding ring, the hands of his husband. 

“Welcome home, Mr. Gallagher.” The words fell from Ian’s lips, happy. **Welcome home.** Welcome to a safe place to lay his head. Welcome to a place to make their own. A place to start their lives. **_Home._** A place that Mickey had never known the true definition of until finding it in the eyes, heart, and arms of Ian Gallagher. 

“Yeah, welcome home, _you soft bitch._ ” The words were soft and light, followed by a soft laugh. His hand rose, reaching upwards to caress the side of Ian’s face as he leaned forward, pressing lips to his in a warm and gentle kiss. 

********

_**welcome home.** _


	2. Family First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Lip and Ian moved into their own homes with their partners, Fiona living down south and Frank continuing to be the same deadbeat as before. Liam is left alone to live in the Gallagher home with Debbie and Carl - each of whom, are mostly busy and rarely home. How does Liam cope with these new changes? Ian has a meeting with his new parole officer and receives some good news while Mickey starts a new job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to taylor (@ianlovebot) on twitter. for inspiring me and for helping me develop headcanons.

There’s a house that still stands. A house with walls that hold stories that oftentimes were better left unspoken. It was a house that once housed each of the Gallagher siblings and while a few had moved forward with their lives, creating new starts and new stories - it was a house that would still always be a place to call home. Lip and Tami had newly finished renovations on their new southside home. Moving in and settling in with Fred. Ian and Mickey had finally started renting their own home in the southside. Knew well enough that when you were born southside, you didn’t turn your back on your home. Fiona, having left nearly two years prior, had maintained contact with her family through phone calls and video calls whenever she could. 

She had made good on her idea of moving south. Somewhere warm because she hated the cold. Hell Bent on doing it right this time. On doing better. She had worked too darn hard to allow herself to slip back into old habits. Into old patterns and old mistakes. Living in a small one bedroom in Florida, she had made her home. A few plants, her own chair and enrolled in school to get her business degree. 

Though what started as a hook-up. Sandy had found herself investing more of her time at the Gallagher home. A house that now remained occupied by Carl, Debbie, Franny, Liam and occasionally Frank when he had torn himself away long enough to crash on the couch. Those days were looking fewer and farther apart. Sandy, falling for the Gallagher charm had all but moved herself in. The less time spent within the Milkovich home, the better. She’d taken to helping with Franny while Debbie worked and spent time with Ian and Mickey. Carl had continued his work with the sanitation department all whilst studying up for his aspirations to get into law enforcement, determined to give back to his community in any way he could. A boy who wore his heart on his sleeves. 

Liam sat at the kitchen table, a few pieces of buttered toast lay on the plate before him. There remained an eerie sense of calm in a house that was typically full of bustling siblings. It was always quiet now. Carl already at work, Debbie had made her way down the stairs in a rush, waving in his direction. 

“Can you drive me to school?” he clears his throat, speaking up from the table; lifting a piece of bread and bringing it to his lips; chomping down. 

“Can’t! In a rush. Call Lip or Ian,” words came fast, grabbing the extra piece of toast off her brother's plate, ruffling the top of his head and opening the door. “Don’t wait up! Love ya!” door closed behind her. There’s a heavy sigh that passes through young Gallaghers lips. A familiar vacant sensation settled in his gut. A feeling of loss. He could remember the words he had once said to Lip a year prior. It would suck not having everyone around. **It sucks.**

Phone taken from pocket, Lip’s phone number dialed immediately. 

He’s already at work, Lip. Heading in earlier and pulling later days to make up for the repair costs to his new home. Phone rings from pocket, greased up hands rub against his work shirt before a hand reaches into his pocket, noting the caller and lifting phone to an ear as free hand wipes sweat drops that had begun to form on his forehead. 

“You okay, buddy?” it’s soft. A sort of softness only reserved for the ones that he loved. His family. A softness reserved for a younger brother with whom he’d go to the ends of the earth for. A brother with whom you were prepared to drop out of college and raise should things with your sister have ended differently. 

“Debbie told me she can’t take me to the school today. I need an adult with me. Are you able to take me?” each word articulated and right to the point. Toast finished off, crumbs brushed off onto his plate before carrying it over to the sink. 

Lip glances at the clock, sighing. “I really wish I could, little man. I’m pulling longer shifts at work. Have you tried Ian?” There’s regret in his tone. Brows furrowed. 

“I’ll check with him. Thanks though. I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Wait-” Lip’s breath comes quickly, hand scratching at his head. “Are you doing okay over there? How about I try and get out of here early, bring you over for dinner?” Missed Liam of course, but perhaps there had also lay some sense of guilt for leaving him behind. The home that they all had grown up in was dysfunctional. People came and went. There was never one parent that was strictly watching everyone until they reached the age of 18. It was nearly every Gallagher for themselves and here was Liam. Still trying to get an education. To do better than the life that had been handed to them. 

“I won’t hold my breath but if you do then you can just give me a call. You know how to reach me.” Liam said with a sense of sureness. Always knew how to get his point across. A moment later the phone is hung up. 

Dial tone meets Lips’ ears, a rapid blink soon leads to the phone sliding back into his pocket. 

A next attempt. Liam dials Ian’s number, watching as the phone rings, rings, rings; reaching voicemail. Fingers search through contacts again for a number that had been given to you after the wedding. Mickey’s. ‘If ya’ can’t fuckin’ reach Ian or whatever.’ It was a statement that was followed up with an awkward scratch of Mickey’s head. A near nervous reaction. 

Nonetheless, it’s a number that is soon called. 

The phone rings a couple of times, answered quickly as tattooed fingers press against the screen. Without looking at the caller ID, sleep rich voice cracks as the phone is brought to his ear. 

“‘the fuck is it?” Mickey sit’s up, glaring at the alarm clock on the table. 8:00am. Due at work within the hour himself. Ian had already left. Meeting with his newly assigned parole officer. 

“It’s Liam and it’s 8 o’clock. Don’t you start a new job today with Lip?” youngest Gallagher’s voice carries a tone of annoyance. 

Mickey huffs into the receiver, resting his phone against his shoulder before reaching down to tug on a pair of blue jeans. “Shouldn’t you be at school?” voice sounds rougher than intended, the statement, however, was not meant in any ill manner. 

“Is Ian home?” question ignored.

“Nah, got a meeting with his new PO. You alright?” 

“I need a ride, forget it.” A defeated sigh. 

“Hang the fuck on, kid.” Mickey meets his sigh, looking around and grabbing a shirt from the floor. It was Ian’s. Most of the shit around here was. 

“I can’t be late.” Liam’s voice was stern and sure. 

“Ain’t gonn’ be late. See ya in a few.” Phone clicks. 

Mickey stands, sliding his phone into his pocket and slipping Ian’s shirt over his head. Heading down the stairs and grabbing the car keys from the side table, heading out the door and into the car. He knew the route by heart. Southside neighbourhood was always going to be a part of him. _Southside always, right?_ Besides that point, it was pretty easy to remember the home of a man that he loved. 

As the car arrived, horn honked. Liam is quick to leave, locking the door behind him before sprinting over to the vehicle, hopping into the passenger seat. Mickey looked over at him, hand rose to scratch at his forehead with his thumb. 

“Ain’t moving till ya’ buckle up or whatever.” Safety first. Ironic because safety for a Milkovich was rarely something that was considered. No more a Milkovich now but a Gallagher and the lesson he was learning was that the Gallagher’s stick together. Nobody is left behind. Taking care of Ian’s kid brother -- his brother-in-law -- was new but it was important. Liam obliged, seat belt buckled. It’s a quiet ride, Mickey’s fingers hover over the radio, hesitant on even putting music on, settling on some alternative rock station with the volume low. 

As the car approaches the school, parked at the curb. Liam lifts his head and offers a smile in Mickey’s direction. It’s awkward but it’s something. 

“Thanks for the ride.” 

“Yeah, sure. You, uh. You got a ride home?” Mickey asks, digging into his pocket for his wallet and a pack of smokes, opening it up and lifting one to his lips. Lighter retrieved and one spark lights the end. Wallet sat on his knee, awaiting a reply. 

“Lip said he’d pick me up if he’s done early and bring me over for dinner but we’ll see.” Liam replied, hand gripping the door handle, turning it and cracking the door open just a tad.

Mickey rolled his eyes, wallet cracked open and ten dollars taken out, it was the smallest bill that he had within his wallet. Handing it over to Liam. “Buy lunch or whatever the hell ya’ want. If he don’t get you, call Ian or me. Whatever.” He wove his hand, some dramatic notion as if to say ‘you know what i mean.’ 

Money taken and within moments, Liam had left. Door closed behind him and a small thanks was given as he headed off towards the school doors.

**\-------JUMP : THE GARAGE -----**

“Look who made it.” Lip teased, staring over at Mickey now that he had arrived at the shop. A job that had been given as a favor. Ian had noticed Mickey’s interest in mechanics, the car that they had purchased was one that Mickey had worked on. The least Ian could do was help him get into a job that he’d like. 

“Shut your face, Gallagher.” it’s playful, a laugh slips through his lips as a tattooed hand rose to flip him the middle finger. There had been a time when this man had annoyed the everliving fuck out of him. A time in which he probably would have tried to fight him and as frustrating as Lip still could be to him...he was family. Family that was now helping him learn and succeed at a job he was starting to love. 

**\----- JUMP : IAN & MICKEY -----**

A day of appointments had kept Ian busy. Walking home from the train station, a few blocks away. Mickey was heading home from the garage with the car. As soon as Ian had made it home, door unlocked and opened. There was a smile on his face that he couldn’t seem to shake. Medications freshly renewed and a successful appointment with his parole officer had him feeling well. It was a type of well that wasn’t concerning. It wasn’t manic. It was content. It was happiness. Something that he had long deserved. It was happiness filled with eagerness at awaiting the arrival of his husband to tell him the good news. 

As car is parked in the driveway, Mickey hops out, locking the door behind him and heading back into the house, door shut behind him. There had been no update or word from Liam to either of their phones, safe to say that Lip had kept to his promise and picked up the younger boy. 

“Hey, how was your first day?” Ian asked, heading back from the kitchen with two opened beers, sitting down on the couch and placing one down on the coffee table for him. 

“Your brother’s annoying as hell man, but it was cool. Learned some shit.” a cheeky grin, hand reaching forward to lift beer bottle to his lips. “Took your kid brother to school this morning.” 

“Yeah, I heard. Thanks.” Ian rose a bottle to his mouth. “I’m worried about him over there. Gonna have to check on him more.” 

Mickey shrugs, settling in beside him. “How’d shit with the parole officer go? Got someone normal?” he asked, shifting to give him his full attention. 

Ian’s smile grew, looking at him. “I’ve got some good news.” 

“Well don’t just sit there and brag man.” Mickey shook his head, knee bouncing impatiently. 

What had transpired today would lead to a new beginning, a new start. What happened today had given Ian a newfound sense of hope. 

Beer bottle set aside on the table, sweaty palms wiped against his pants. He was smiling. 

“Spit it out, Gallagher.” Mickey urged, nudging him playfully. 

Ian took a breath. “Right so the good news is,” 

**To Be Continued**


	3. Lucky Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian meets his new parole officer and receives some life-changing news!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! thank you so much for your patience, i hope you enjoy this until i'm able to write more! take care of yourself! 
> 
> twitter: @ianapologist

There Ian sat, wiping sweaty palms rub against denim jeans, one leg bouncing anxiously and narrowly missing the top of the desk that was set before him. There’d been a lot of fear surrounding the assignment of a new parole officer, given the fact that Paula had done nothing but threaten his safety and future at any moment she could. With her death, came an opening for someone else to take her place. Someone who could potentially be worse or better. It’s only moments later that an older woman finds her way to the desk, she’s taller than the last, not as tall as he was - but still. Sitting at the desk, a blonde-haired woman smiles, extending a hand to him, a gesture that had him momentarily confused; considering Paula had struck him so hard. Delayed, hand rose to hers, fingers wrapping around hand and offering a shake and gentle smile. 

“Leslie Todd and you’re…” slender hands grasp file on her desk, reading over label printed name. “Ian Gallagher, correct?”    
  
Ian clears his throat, posture straightened with hands now resting on his lap. “Yeah, that’s - uh, that’s me. I don’t know what notes were in the file after Paula but I can tell you about everything if you need.” The words coming out, a ramble. Leslie smiled. 

“That won’t be necessary. Paula’s files were seized, reviewed, and redistributed,” she announced calmly. Almost as if to suggest that all of Paula’s previous illegal projects also went under review. Maybe there still lay a chance for him to have a future that led on a better path. 

“I just want to do something good with my time, I used to be an EMT, I’m sure it says that in there.” There lay a sad undertone to his voice, a past that he had once held and soon lost during a time in which he stopped fighting. A time when the monster he fought won. A monster that sought to take and destroy anything in its path. That was a time in which he would never forget. A time that had told him that it was important to get serious about his future, to get serious about taking care of himself, and to take his medication even if his mind was telling him otherwise. 

“I know, I was reading your file. You are a very caring individual. I have a placement for you,” she pauses, reaching into her drawer for the information and forms needed. “I made a few calls, I’d like to get you back into what you were doing before...I promise it’s not insurance fraud.” She managed a small laugh, leading Ian to chuckle slightly, eyes wide with excitement. 

“So you’re saying I can be an EMT again?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair; half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, however, there are some rules that I need to go over and you’ll have to sign off on it to ensure you understand,” pages removed from her folder, placing them in front of him, along with a pen. 

**_City of Chicago_ **

**_Department of Community Services_ **

**_Case Manager: Todd, Leslie_ **

**PARTICIPATION AGREEMENT**

**_FILE: GALLAGHER, IAN CLAYTON_ **

**I will attend every meeting arranged by my parole officer, this includes home visits and workplace visitations.**

I will update my parole officer on any change of address, phone number, workplace. 

I will attend any necessary appointments or groups that are recommended to me. 

I will provide a urine sample when necessary. 

**MEDICATION AGREEMENT**

**I, Ian Clayton Gallagher, agree to take my prescribed psychiatric medication as recommended by a medical professional. I understand that a failure to comply with this policy may result in loss of employment.**

“I managed to get you into an open position with an old friend of mine, he owns and operates a few emergency response locations and wanted to give you a chance. He’ll take you on but you have to follow these rules, Ian.” tone of voice is serious, eyes studying his face. 

Ian reaches for the pen, reading over each word and signing at the end despite how intimidating it all seemed. Medication compliance had been an issue in the past, nearly forgetting or simply falling off altogether. But this was something new, something important. It was a chance to get his life back on track. A chance to start doing what he loved again. 

“I got it, yeah.” name signed, pen placed down again. 

“Especially the last one. You have to be taking your medication and refilling them when needed, I’ll be checking with the clinic. We understand that there will be bad days and good days...you’re allowed time off if needed.” her hands reached forward, recollecting the now signed paper and the pen. Tone is softer, smiling gently. “I’m not your enemy here, Ian. I just want you to have a future.” 

It’s as if the fear concerning a new parole officer had ceased to exist. The reassurance, the gentle manner in which she had presented herself -- it felt like a safe spot. One that he was glad to find. “I can do that, I  _ promise. _ ” voice was sure, reaching out to shake her hand as he stood up from the chair. 

“David will be in touch with you this week, he’ll tell you when to come in to get everything set up there,” Leslie rose from her desk, taking his hand and shaking it lightly. “You’re going to be fine, Ian. My phone number is on that card, call if you need any help.” 

“Thank you, I mean it.” Ian nods his head, smiling as he turns to leave her office to head home. Home to tell his  _ husband  _ the great news. They both had fought so hard their entire lives and finally, things had started to work in their favour. Married, moved into their first home, Mickey with a job at the shop with Lip and now Ian, getting back to the field he loved. Helping people was always easier than helping ourselves. 

**\-- HOME --**

“Spit it out, man.” Mickey’s legs kick up, resting against a wooden coffee table that they had swiped off the curbside. “What’s the good news?” 

A large smile finds its place on Ian’s face, bright and vibrant, sitting beside him finally. His smile was contagious, enough so to make Mickey grin at him; he typically was anyways. There was something beautiful about Ian Gallagher. “New PO is great, nice lady. Found me a job right away. One that doesn’t suck and isn’t some bullshit fraud situation.” He announced happily. 

“You gon’ spit it out or just keep talkin’?” Mickey’s brow rose, nudging him playfully. 

“I’m going to be an EMT again,” Ian announced happily, nudging him right back as he leaned back into the couch. 

“No shit?” Mickey piped up.    
  
“No shit,” Ian replied, scooting a bit closer, head resting against his shoulder as a leg lazily drapes over Mickey’s lap. “Gotta stay up on my meds otherwise I’ll lose the job.” he finished. 

“Well, your ass ain’t losin’ no job and sure as hell not missing your meds.” Mickey’s voice grew serious, dropping his gaze to study Ian’s face. “Remind ya every damn day, man.” tone lightens as face tilts down, lips meeting the top of Ian’s head and leaving a gentle kiss. “Fuckin’ proud of ya’.” He meant it. He knew that Ian was capable of doing anything he wanted, Mickey would always be right there to support him through it all.  _ For better or worse, sickness and health -- all that shit.  _

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Ian smiled again, lingering against his body for a moment before sitting back up. “You have dinner yet?” rising from the couch, preparing to head to the kitchen before a hand reaches out to stop him. 

“Fuck cooking, we’re going out to celebrate. Big ol’ fuckin’ steak.” Mickey pipes up, standing from the couch after letting Ian go. Within moments, car keys were grabbed from Mickey’s pocket, shoes on their feet and out the door, they went. 

With Mickey in the driver seat, eyes glance in Ian’s direction. “You tell your family yet?” he asked, hand reaching down to grab a cigarette from the center console, slipping it between lips as lighter sparks to life. Inhaling sharply and soon exhaling.

“Just going to text them, it’s cool.” Ian shrugged, reaching into his pocket for his phone. 

__**[ to: lip - > got a new po 2day new job 2 ]**  
  
[ from: lip -> garbage duty? nah how’d u do? ] 

_**[ to: lip - > emt just gotta take my meds ] ** _

_**[ from: lip - > no shit man that’s amazing we gotta do something ] ** _

_**[ to: lip - > having dinner with mick another time? ] ** _

_**[ from: lip - > yeah, tomorrow man. ]** _

“Lip wants to do something tomorrow.” Ian smiled, slipping the phone back into his pocket. Once they’ve arrived, the car is quickly shut off and locked, the two of them walking through the doors and directly to the restaurant host. 

“We want a booth,” Ian suggested, glancing over at Mickey who offered a simple shrug. The sense of privacy was appreciated, a place to be able to talk and exist as just the two of them without worrying about others staring. Not that it mattered, fuck what anyone else thought. They both had fought so long for what they had that it shouldn’t matter. But nonetheless, they were seated at a booth. 

Trading up the usual pitcher of beer for the recommended wine from the server, steaks were ordered and they were once alone again. 

Mickey reaches across the table with one hand, grabbing Ian’s with a smile. “I’m real fuckin’ proud of you, man.” He was. He meant it. Ian smiled, a dimple forming in the left side of his cheek as he squeezed Mickey’s hand. “I know,” he answered. He sat there, in silence, lips wide with a smile as he looked at him. After so many years of bloodied fists, prison cells, and southside bullshit, they had finally gotten what they wanted. What they deserved. As if the world had finally laid down its sword and allowed them to have what they so long fought for. 

There was home within the blue eyes of Mickey Milkovich. 

Suddenly, phone vibrates within Mickey’s pockets. Releasing Ian’s hand as he grabs it. 

_**[ from: LIP GALLAGHER - > planning a surprise party for ian tomorrow with everyone just don’t let him know ]** _

Mickey rolls his eyes, prompting a raise of brow from Ian that is quickly dismissed with a wave of Mickey’s hand. 

_**[ to: LIP GALLAGHER - > ok ] ** _

"Who was that?" Ian asked, nosey as ever.

"Mind ya' business," Mickey smirked, shaking his head.

As food made it's way to the table, placed down in front of them before the wait staff took their leave. Ian smiles, reaching for his fork.

"I love you, Ian," Mickey says softly, low enough for the pair of them to hear.

"I love you, too." Ian smiles, reaching out to squeeze his hand with freehand and soon turning attention back to the food.

"Dig in."


End file.
